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Her plea she extends to him with the desperation of a girl who has never finished grieving for a homeland forever lost to her, and yet he is not moved. Had she been hanging from the edge of a cliff, with hope as the only grit that kept tired hands from slipping, he would have left her there to her fate. “Nasreen,” Bucephalus tells her, “There are none of the old monarchy left in Sehrau. The last of the royal line died there.” His tone is gentle, but it doesn’t make the words hurt any less. Feeling as if the ground has been suddenly swept out from under her, Nasreen’s face crumples. It’s like some horrible replay, a twisted déjà vu of when Quilyan told her that Th’orqui was gone and their family was scattered—she had refused to believe to this day that their kingdom had fallen to ruin, but the way that Bucephalus’ tale sounds all too familiar…tears fill the princess’ eyes, overwhelmed by the shock of this double loss.
Her heart almost goes out to her companion at the realization that he has lost his country too—almost. But then he turns on her, words like knives shredding her tender soul: "I said no. If you wish to return home, find your way. Some of us do not wish to return to the place of our birth." As he spits his refusal at her, he is backing away…yet instead of growing smaller as he recedes, he is growing alarmingly larger. Huge wings, dark and rustling ominously, blot out the sun in a threatening manner, and Nasreen, who has always forgotten to remember the danger he could pose to her, is suddenly reminded of why she has always been wary of the menfolk of her kind. A low whimper escapes her lips, and she shrinks back, afraid.
But the death-blow her delivers is not physical, but verbal. "I'll not take you to Sehrau. On that, you have my word," he swears, flinging his promise at her feet. And she feels her hope shatter, cringing and crying out as if the shards that pierce her heart are of real glass instead of the filmy stuff of dreams. Tears cloud her vision as he sprints away from her, launching himself into the sky. “WAIT!” she sobs, stumbling after him. She is still terrified of what he will do to her should she stall him, but more terrifying still is the thought of never seeing Th’orqui again. “Please…” Yet it is no use, for in her half-blind haste, Nasreen trips over a stray root just in time to see him vanish into the sky.
She does not know how long she lies there, crying bitterly, but by the time she has no tears left it is nearly dark. Unable to fly in this light, Nasreen sighs. She will stay the night here, and in the morning she will make the long journey back to the Edge.
@[Bucephalus]
Calling this closed!
"speech"
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